


Motel Nights (I WILL Kill You)

by Scott_Tape



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: As things go on, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Canon Fix-It, Rated teen for language, bubby does a hit! Good for him, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29491125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scott_Tape/pseuds/Scott_Tape
Summary: So what happens? After you go through hell? After you risk your life, sacrifice, and pull yourself apart, and still make it to the end alive together?Well, you all fall out of contact and stop talking to each other.Obviously.It was a shit feeling, to be fair.[Post-canon au fic wherein Bubby is staying at a run-down motel for multiple reasons, the last person he expected to see shows up, and there are far too many emotions on the table.Benrey and Bubby have an evil little sibling dynamic and they both bully each other for being gay <3]
Relationships: Benrey & Bubby (Half-Life), Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	Motel Nights (I WILL Kill You)

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a dead man at my door and he looks like a bitch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what happens? After you go through hell? After you risk your life, sacrifice, and pull yourself apart, and still make it to the end alive together?
> 
> Well, you all fall out of contact and stop talking to each other.
> 
> Obviously.
> 
> It was a shit feeling, to be fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a dead man at my door and he looks like a bitch.

It’s not every day you go from fighting your way out of an alien invasion to sleeping at a run-down motel.

It really was a strange idea, such a sudden string of events, and the question that came along with it was just as odd.

How did you get to this point? 

Bubby thought about that question a lot. Especially in moments like these.

He was laying flat on his back, staring up at the painfully dull ceiling of a painfully dull motel room. Which was, of course, the place he had been staying at for… what was it? Two weeks, now? Three weeks? Could even push it and say four. At this point he wasn’t sure. All the days blended together after the first few.

As of now, it was late at night, nearing early morning. A flashing red light on the nightstand beside his bed mocked him with the time, “3:26 A.M.” It was marking yet another long night spent laying around- doing nothing useful, and getting no sleep. It knew- it knew that he hadn’t slept in days. Each blink of the light was a silent, judgemental stare. He was this close to throwing the thing at a fucking wall if it kept looking at him like that. 

But, aggressive tendencies towards alarm clocks aside, he found himself zoning out. As his gaze on the ceiling above began to blur, he started to disappear into his own thoughts.

He thought back on Black Mesa and the Resonance Cascade. How the  _ hell _ did he end up going from there to here? It wasn’t an easy question to answer, no matter how many times the question snuck into his head. 

What happens after you go through hell and back together? 

It was the four of them, you know? The  _ Science Team _ , or whatever. Headed by Gordon Freeman, the guy who had to put up with way too much shit for his own good, but you all put in your weight. You all fought tooth and nail and survived way longer than any of you had the right to. 

It all came crashing down with  _ Benrey _ . When the four of you had to band together to kill him after he turned out to be… whatever  _ that _ was. Like an alien but. If you put that alien in photoshop and just kinda. Stretched him around.

Bubby was pretty sure he had almost died when they fought him. He was pretty sure he almost died a few times _before_ that, as well. In retrospect, determining when he was and wasn’t on the cusp of death was surprisingly more difficult than he thought it would be. 

The point still stood, however. So many things had happened. They had gone through… so much shit.

So what happens? After you go through hell? After you risk your life, sacrifice, and pull yourself apart, and still make it to the end alive  _ together? _

Well, you all fall out of contact and stop talking to each other.

Obviously.

It was a shit feeling, to be fair. Bubby wished he could say he didn’t know how they all got to this point. But, on his end? He… definitely knew. The moment where he started to become reserved, to pull back after Black Mesa, was so clearly outlined in his memory.

Bubby remembered the starry night sky. Sitting next to Coomer on the roof of an apartment building. It was nice to look at the stars somewhere else. He had never seen them outside of Black Mesa before.

It was a good feeling.

He remembered being so captivated by his surroundings that night, and using the stars as an excuse to look away from his late-night companion. Because part of him believed that if he looked at Coomer instead,  _ he  _ would be all he stared at for the rest of the night.

And, well, it’s a lot easier to make an excuse for staring at stars rather than people.

It was on this roof, so late at night, where the bridge collapsed between Bubby and the others. At this moment, just with him and Coomer. Even when he felt so safe in the moment, so comforted, he didn’t know what was coming.

It shouldn’t have scared him like it did. It was just a question. A pretty simple one, really.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a place to stay, doctor?” Coomer had asked. His chipper voice was just barely dampened by the late-night hours. 

He remembered finally making eye contact, as Coomer laid a hand on his own in the dark. He wasn’t supposed to do that. 

“You know, you’re more than welcomed to stay with me!”

He remembered panicking. And leaving.

Leaving  _ quickly. _

__ It really messed with Bubby, thinking about it again. With a deep groan, he rolled over and buried his face into one of the pillows at the head of his bed. Because he knew. Out of everything that happened before he finally started going his own way, he knew  _ that _ was what sealed the deal. Because he was too busy burying God knows how many emotions towards this other man. And because of those emotions, anything that could be read as  _ remotely _ beyond platonic was immediately internalized for him to panic over.

There was no way Bubby was going to take up an offer like that. How  _ could  _ he? All he did was live through alien-hell with this man and fought side-by-side with him, after- what? Working alongside him for over a decade? But, the thought of  _ living together?  _ I mean, were they really even  _ that _ close? Would that have been okay? Coomer was just fucking  _ alright  _ with suggesting something like that so easily?

…

Okay, so, maybe his reaction was a little ridiculous. 

It wasn’t impossible to consider that Coomer had honestly just extended the invitation out of kindness. If anything, it was very likely. They had known each other for years, and Bubby had just now stepped outside of Black Mesa. It didn’t take a genius to know that Bubby was going to struggle to get on his own two feet out in the “real world,” and Coomer was nothing if not more than willing to help out people in need.

But therein lies the problem.

There Bubby was, laying down in a plain, one-bed bedroom motel, head buried in a flat pillow, sitting on top of blankets with textures that made his legs feel like they were resting on sandpaper. He could be with him. Right now, he could be with Coomer, in his apartment with him. Even just on his couch- the couch would be fine. It would be better than this. 

But he couldn’t stomach the idea that Coomer would let him stay just because he was his  _ friend _ .

Because he knew, sitting in this lonely bed in this lonely motel room, that he wanted more than that. And getting a chance to live with the man you realized that you’ve loved for years, only for him to see you as a friend?

Well, that would feel more lonely than the motel.

And it was fucked up! Bubby would be the first to admit to himself that it was fucked up! He should be happy- more than happy,  _ grateful _ \- at the chance to be in a home. But he wasn’t. He didn’t know how to digest these emotions. He didn’t know how to dissect platonic from romantic, or what to do with the possibility of either outcomes. He didn’t know how to think this through, how to be okay with being near  _ him. _

So, when Coomer offered to just let him stay? All that confusion bursted out into panic. And he ran.

It’s been days since he’s talked to any of them.

It’s been weeks since he’s talked to  _ him. _

With a frustrated cry, Bubby shot up and tossed his pillow across the room. His face was hot from getting lost in his own hole of embarrassing thoughts. He sat up, back to the wall, and he buried his face in his hands, pushing his glasses up to his forehead.

This sucked. This sucked this sucked he was going to lose his mind what the  _ FUCK _ ?

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he heard a knock on the door.

“What the fuck,” he muttered, his face now half peaking up from his hands to look at his door. He was almost convinced he’d just  _ thought _ he heard something as the ringing sound of silence settled back in, before another string of knocks filled the air quickly.

The old scientist was half-tempted to just roll over and die, and hope that whoever was on the other side of the door would get the memo and leave. But, judging by the pounding storm of knocks that followed his continued silence, whoever was there was not in the mood to be ignored.

So, with the pettiest sigh an elderly, easily pissed off, tired scientist could manage, Bubby pushed himself off of his bed. He half-slid off of the side and got to his feet, taking a second to remember how the fuck his legs work.

He clicked on a small lamp near his bedside as he headed to the door on the opposite side of the room. The person on the other side was still going at it, evidently, and Bubby swore that if this was some dude who didn’t realize he was knocking on the wrong door, he  _ would _ kill someone tonight.

His mind ran through the options of who it could have been as he began to undo the multiple locks on the door. The idea of it being anyone from the “science team” was quickly banished from his mind- moreso from denial than anything else. The possibility of some rando who just happened to get the wrong door number was likely. Maybe it was someone coming to kick him out because he’d been staying so long. At nearly 4:00 A.M? Unlikely. But maybe.

He yanked the door open, bracing himself for the cold air that raced in once it had a chance. A chill went up his back, but he brushed it off. His mouth was twisted in a tight sneer, ready to bash whoever decided they were going to be a pain in his ass so early in the morning, but his aggressive façade fell short when he made eye contact with the person standing in front of him.

Out of all of the people he expected to be on the other side of the door, a dead man was not one of them.

The lights on the motel balcony lit him up in a way that made him feel intimidating in the dark morning. Two sunken, bright eyes stared down at Bubby. Had he always been so much taller than him? A crooked overbite showcased two large lower-jaw fangs that stuck out from the rest of his sharp teeth, and broke out into a tired smile that stretched across his large face.

Benrey.

“What the fuck.”

He could see Benrey’s eyes light up in amusement. “Fucking- finally- took you long enough. Was starting to wonder if you were even- uh- in there.”

“What the  _ fuck.”  _ Bubby couldn’t find the mental energy to form any other reply. Benrey replied with an ugly cackle, face twisted with a surprising amount of excitement.

“Oh shit- man- c’mon.” He held his arms out like he was presenting something obvious. “I-it’s me- your uh. Your good friend Benrey-”

He was met with a crisp slap across the face.

Okay! Now it was Benrey’s turn. “ _ What the  _ _ fuck _ ?”

Bubby was shaking out his hand, staring at the other man with an incredulous expression. “ _ That _ was to make sure I’m not seeing shit.”

The next hit was a punch  _ directly _ to his face- which, honestly, might’ve hurt Bubby more than Benrey. But, it gave the exact effect he wanted, as Benrey leaned forward with a shout, cupping his face in his hands. 

“And  _ that _ is for being the fucking worst!” Bubby shouted. 

It did, at that moment, click in his head that someone could likely see them both from this position. He glanced around in a sudden panic, looking for anyone who might’ve been out on the motel balcony watching them. When he couldn’t place his sights on any prying eyes, he grabbed Benrey by his vest- why was this guy still wearing his fucking uniform?- and practically tossed him back into Bubby’s room.

The scientist was quick to turn around and shut the door tight behind him, leaning back against it with a sigh. His legs were  _ this  _ close to giving out from nerves right now. What the hell was this guy doing here? How was he  _ alive _ ?

Benrey was leaning up against the set of drawers that held up an old box T.V., one hand positioned to hold himself up, the other still covering his face. He let out a groan that quickly turned into a deep, baritone note of music, followed by a string of colorful orbs that escaped through the cracks in his fingers. Red to a saturated brown color. (Crimson to golden grain, means  _ holy fuck, I’m in pain.) _

“What the  _ fuck _ are you doing here?” Bubby asked through gritted teeth, clutching his now-aching hand with his other free one. 

“Nice to- fuck- good to see you too, doc,” Benrey groaned.

“No! It’s fucking- its not ‘good to see you,’ you bitch! God- damn it all, the last thing it is, is  _ good _ to see  _ you _ !” Bubby straightened his posture, his face twisted into an indignant expression. He gestured animatedly with his hands as he spoke, and they got increasingly more frantic as he continued. “ _ You’re supposed to be fucking dead!” _

“Yeah- well- sorry to fuck up the plot,” Benrey held up his hands in mock defence, “but I’m. Not. Not dead. Not uh… not anymore. Surprise.”

It was probably finally reaching 4 A.M. by now, Bubby assumed. If the pain in his hand and the slow but steadily increasing shaking in his legs was a testament to  _ anything _ , it was that there was no way this was a dream. Multiple nights of sleeplessness might’ve elicited some sort of hallucination like this,  _ maybe _ , but… it was too real. The dead security guard that Bubby had to help fight in an  _ alien dimension _ was  _ alive, _ and he was more ready to accept that fact than he thought he’d be.

He looked at Benrey, who was leaning on the drawers in a more comfortable fashion now, rather than as a means of support. He was either staring at Bubby or staring  _ through _ him, he genuinely couldn’t tell. 

The scientist desperately tried to form together some string of words that might vaguely resemble a sentence. He opened his mouth to say something, and saw Benrey’s head tilt with the slightest acknowledgement, but the words wouldn’t come. He closed his mouth, opened it again, reaching his hands out in Benrey’s direction in a way that might’ve been threatening if he wasn’t an old man on the brink of a panicked shut-down. His jaw clamped shut when no noise came out once again. His mind was swimming, and-

Oh- yep, there go his legs. No more standing for tonight, boys, everyone go home.

He slumped up against the door, sliding to the carpet as his legs gave their last “hurrah” in the form of sudden shooting pains from his knees that were most  _ definitely _ not going to be polite to him when he tried to get back on his feet. He ran his hands across his face, once again burying the heels in his eyes. His glasses now rested on top of his knuckles and against his forehead, and he let out a long, defeated groan.

“Oh- shit, dude-”   
  


Bubby held up a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. “Damn it all, Benrey, just- just give me a minute. Give me a- fucking minute.”

There was a curt hum of acknowledgement from the other person in the room, and he watched Benrey slump down to the floor, sitting across from him.

They really needed to talk.

As soon as Bubby could regain half of the senses he’d just lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve! Never really done fanfic before so.. sorry if this is kinda wack! Had fun tho!  
> Updates might be few depending on how interesting people find this fic ig JDFBSYDVV.  
> Uhh comments and feedback are always appreciated!!

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written a fic before and posted it so ! Enjoy whatever this is. Updates will be sporadic bc I’m not sure how interesting this story is actually gjebduwvdhv  
> Comments and feedback are appreciated!! :]


End file.
